Part 1 The Joker Chapter 78 – Mental Shadows
Al Hazen concurred:
”Indeed, it’s hard to imagine that the ‘Diviner’ would be followed by the ‘Joker’; following normal logic, no one would connect them.”
”Is that strange? I remember quite a few pathways of sequential magic potions that lacked the necessary correlation before and after as well.” The dark-haired lady, Lolota, covered her mouth and yawned, it was obvious that her injuries were more serious, so much so that the “Goddess’s Gaze” could hardly keep her energized.
”No, Lolotta, this is completely different, even if the other Sequence potions lacked a connection, we could find some common ground in another way, but not ‘Diviner’ and ‘Joker’, I can’t understand it at all. ” Al Hassan shook his head and sighed.
Klein let out a laugh as he listened to their discussion:
”No, there’s still something in common.”
”What is it?” Al asked curiously, and Dunn’s flexing of his arms slowed noticeably.
Klein answered in a serious voice:
”Whether it’s ‘soothsayers’ or ‘clowns’, it can be found at the circus.”
”……” Al, Dunn and Lolota froze for a moment.
”Pfft …… nice answer, I like young men like you!” The dark haired lady, Lolota, was the first to come back to her senses and burst out laughing.
Al followed with a smile and shook his head:
”Nowadays, in this era, gentlemen with the spirit of self-deprecation are getting fewer and fewer, fortunately, we met another one today.”
You think I like to laugh at myself ah …… I do not also did not expect other common ground …… Klein ventriloquized two sentences, smile slightly bitterly replied:
”I just hope that the magic potions of this sequence pathway don’t have names like ‘tamer’, ‘acrobat’, ‘magician’, and so on, that would really make up a circus.”
And it’s still a one-man troupe ……
”Haha.” Dunn and the others were immediately amused by his words, and the carriage was filled with a cheerful atmosphere.
The carriage traveled forward, all the way to Zotland Street, and Klein, who wasn’t hurt much, entered the Blackthorn Security Company first.
”Goddess! What has happened to you? How did you become like this?” Roxanne casually glanced over and uttered in shock.
Klein looked down at his dirty and torn formal attire, still feeling heartbroken, and replied:
”There are always accidents of one kind and another in missions, fortunately, the Goddess blesses with a happy ending.”
”Praise the Goddess!” Roxanne reverently drew a “Crimson Moon” on her chest.
Without waiting for Klein to speak, she took the initiative to inquire:
”Do we need to go to the third floor to hide again? Is that seal really that dangerous?”
”Trust me, it’s more dangerous than you think.” Klein replied heartily.
If he didn’t have a more mysterious “transit ritual”, he would have been accounted for in “2-049” today!
”Goddess ah ……” Roxanne lips open and close, as if there are still a lot of words want to say, there are still a lot of questions want to ask, but considering that the captain is waiting downstairs, she finally resisted the impulse, greeted Mrs. Oriana and other people to the third floor! –Blackthorn Security’s right and left next door, upstairs and downstairs, either belonged to the church property or were inhabited by devout, vaguely informed clergy.
When the clerical staff had been evacuated, Crane didn’t rush to the rec room to notify the other night watchmen, but returned immediately to assist the captain and the others in escorting the seal “2-049”, the remnants of the monster Bieber, and the Antigonus family notes to the second floor.
Passing through the partition, Dunn pushed open the door to the recreation room and addressed the two night watchmen who were playing Quintessence:
”Frye, Loyal, you will go to the Tyrell warehouse in the dock area immediately and assist Leonard with the follow-up.”
”Okay.” The lady with dark hair and a cold expression, Loyao, was the first to get up.
The black-haired, blue-eyed, pale-skinned “corpse collector” Frye followed.
They put down their Quints and walked out of the rec room, pausing for a moment as they passed through the partition.
”Wait.” Dunn called out without fail.
”Anything else?” “Sleepless One,” Loyal asked, his expression unchanged as he craned his head.
”Remember to notify the police and have them block off the roads and keep anyone away until you’ve processed the scene and brought the bodies back.” Dunn lightly slapped his forehead and said.
”Okay.” Loyal turned and took two steps forward, pausing heavily.
She turned back and blinked, coldly confirming:
”Captain, is there nothing else?”
”No.” Dunn replied firmly.
Loyal nodded imperceptibly and took the lead towards the door.
The cold and gloomy “corpse collector” Frye still maintained his speed, neither too fast nor too slow.
Just then, Dunn spoke once again:
”Remember, remember to tell Roxanne and Mrs. Oleanna that they can come down.”
”No problem.” Fry replied calmly to the point of near absence of emotional turmoil.
Witnessing the two night watchmen walk out the door and climb up to the third floor, Klein breathed a quiet sigh of relief and followed the captain and Al and the others into the ground, making their way straight ahead to reach the folio of chanes doors.
”You go to the armory and get old Niall over here, we need his ritual magic healing.” Dunn instructed Crane as he signaled Kornleigh, the Sleepless One, to open the Charnis Gate.
As the effects of the potion wore off, his spirit gradually waned.
”Okay.” Without waiting for the captain to add, Klein said to himself, “I’ll guard the armory instead of old Neil, and also request at least twenty more Demon Hunter bullets and wait for the Sanctuary’s approval to hold back my curiosity about the notes from the Antigonus family.”
”……” Dunn couldn’t find the words to respond for a moment.
”Captain, there’s nothing else, is there?” Klein, who had finished his snatch, asked with a smile.
Dunn shook his head, still unable to speak.
Removing his cane, turning his body and walking a bit, Klein turned toward the weapons vault and told the old Niall, who was drinking fresh water, the general gist of what had happened.
”Turned into an out of control monster …… You also killed an extraordinary person?” Old Neil quickly cleared the table, “It’s like I’m listening to the script of a play.”
He muttered and walked around the table, aiming straight for the hallway, not even waiting for Klein’s answer.
Kline did ask rather curiously:
”Mr. Neil, doesn’t the church have any real healing potions? It’s surprising that it needs the help of ritual magic.”
”The potions formulated from ordinary materials can’t solidify the healing effects from rituals for a long period of time, while transcendental type materials are very rare and most of them are not suitable for this kind of thing.” Old Neil casually explained, “You should know about ‘Goddess’s Gaze’ by now, this potion is a standard, true healing potion when it’s first made through the ritual, but every minute after that, the effects evaporate until there’s only a little left.”
”So ……,” Klein nodded with slight disappointment.
As a former “keyboard adventurer”, aka game enthusiast, yearning for healing potions was really a matter of habit.
After seeing Old Neil leave, he sat down and felt the peace of a long absence.
In such tranquility, he recalled the gruesome state of the tuxedoed clown’s dying, his own cold-blooded shooting, the hideous wounds and the pools of blood gushing out.
Crane’s body gradually shuddered, his heart filled with discomfort as he stood up, then sat down, then slowly repeated the process, interspersed with back and forth walking.
”Phew ……” he exhaled, intent on finding himself something to do so he wouldn’t always be reminded of the bad images.
Crane took off his bowler hat and stripped off his formal attire, pulling out his handkerchief and brush, and earnestly cleaned the dirt and dust from his clothing.
I don’t know how long it took, but he heard the familiar sound of old Neil’s footsteps – a special one created by landing heel-first.
”This is exhausting ……” grumbled Old Neil as he walked into the room.
”You tell the others not to come here for an hour, I need some rest.” He ordered casually as his eyes swept over Klein.
”Why don’t you go upstairs and rest while I watch the place?” Klein kindly offered.
Old Neil shook his head:
”It’s too noisy up there, and little Roxanne is a girl who can’t stop talking.”
”Fine.” Without further insistence, Klein put on his coat, put on his hat, picked up his cane, went back into the hallway, and pulled the door to the armory to half-cover.
Da, da, da, he walked slowly down the empty aisle, when he suddenly saw an extra room beside him that he had never seen before.
”There’s a secret door here ……” Klein stopped near the corner and peered into the room.
He realized that Fry, the “corpse collector”, had already returned and was inside examining a completely stripped body in detail.
A corpse? With a twitch in his heart, Klein plucked up the courage to approach the room and knocked three times on the open door.
Knock, knock, knock.
Fry stopped moving, turned his body, and looked over with azure, cold eyes.
”Sorry to bother you, I was just wondering if this was the body of the extraordinary one?” Klein asked in a measured tone.
”Right.” Fry’s thin lips opened and closed, but he spat out only one word.
Klein’s gaze crossed over him to the body, and sure enough, he spotted the familiar grisly wound on his forehead.
It’s that tuxedoed clown …… Klein said with a dark exhale:
”Anything?”
”No.” Fry replied unusually succinctly.
The atmosphere was awkward for a moment, and Klein was thinking of excusing himself when Frye took the initiative to speak:
”If you feel uncomfortable, you can come in and take a look, you’ll realize that it’s just a corpse.”
Afraid I’ll have a mental block? Klein nodded thoughtfully:
”Okay.”
He enters the room, goes to the long table covered with a white cloth, and looks at the corpse.
The red, yellow, and white greasepaint had all been removed from the tuxedoed clown’s face, exposing an unfamiliar face with few distinguishing features, dark hair, a high nose, and an age in the mid to late thirties.
At this point, Frye walked over to the square table in the corner and picked up a pencil and a piece of white paper.
He returned to the vicinity of the body, placed the white paper, and, pencil in hand, brushed and drew.
Crane glanced curiously and realized that Frye was actually sketching the head of the tuxedoed clown.
Not long after, Fry stopped the pencil, while on the white paper there was an additional lifelike portrait, it compared to the corpse, just no wounds, just more blue eyes.
Talent,…… Klein exclaimed in amazement:
”I didn’t think, I didn’t realize that your sketches were so good.”
”Before I became a Night Watchman, my dream was to be a painter.” Fry’s tone didn’t have the slightest rise or fall.
”Then why not go and realize the dream?” Klein asked suspiciously.
Frye set his pencil down and said, holding a portrait of the tuxedoed clown in his hand:
”My father was a priest of the Goddess and wanted me to become a priest as well, it’s a decent enough profession.”
”You were a priest?” Klein asked again, stunned.
It was hard for him to imagine someone of Fry’s character and temperament as a priest.
”Well, it wasn’t a bad job.” Frye replied with a cold expression and the corners of his mouth vaguely turned up a bit, “Then I met some things and experienced some things, so I became a night watchman.”
Klein didn’t bother prying into other people’s privacy in detail, and turned to ask:
”You used to be a priest of the Goddess, so why didn’t you pick the ‘Sleepless One’?”
”A personal reason.” Fry replied matter-of-factly, “And Ms. Daly is a good role model.”
Klein nodded and was about to digress when he heard Fry say:
”Keep an eye on this place for me, I must give the portrait to the captain immediately …… It’s a pain in the ass to close the secret door.”
”Okay.” Although Klein was a little afraid of facing the corpse alone, he still forced himself to agree.
As Frye left, the room became quiet, and the corpse lay there, weighing heavily on Klein’s mind.
He took a breath and approached the long table as if trying to overcome himself.
The tuxedoed clown lay still, his face pale, his eyes closed, having lost all breath, and he radiated the distinctive coldness of the dead, in addition to the hideousness of his wounds.
Klein stared for a while, his mood settling and seeming to calm down.
As his eyes swept over, he noticed a strange branding at the tuxedoed clown’s wrist, and boldly reached out to touch it, trying to flip it over for a better look.
The cold sensation had just traveled from Klein’s fingertips to his brain when the pale, lost-all-life palm suddenly popped up and grabbed him by the wrist.
A tight grip on his wrist!